


'Cause We're Connected

by cyborgchickenbanana, Drag0n_Fire



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Renegotiated Sokovia Accords, Awesome Pepper Potts, BAMF Harley Keener, Black Markets, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Hurt Harley Keener, Iron Man 3, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Villian Harley Keener, Weapons, soft tony stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyborgchickenbanana/pseuds/cyborgchickenbanana, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0n_Fire/pseuds/Drag0n_Fire
Summary: All the air seemed to leave Tony as he tried to control the widening of his eyes, “Kid?”“A kid is a baby goat, Tony. I,” Harley smirked, “am much worse.”“Alright, ki-Harley, what the hell is going on?”---Tony is reunited with a certain southern kid he met years ago. Except it’s less of a reunion and more of an interrogation, because the kid is a sixteen-year-old well-established criminal.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Avengers Team, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 67
Kudos: 186





	1. Baby Goat

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all are doing okay! We just started writing this as a "hey, why the heck not?" and then became a little too invested in it. This will definitely be multiple chapters but probably not too long. We really hope you enjoy this and sorry if it seems like we don't quite know what we're doing... because we don't really but we kinda do. Remember to take care of yourself!

Tony’s thoughts went in a continuous loop of similar statements, all variations of _the_ _actual fucking fuck?_ These thoughts were most likely triggered by the handcuffed criminal sitting in front of Tony and the Avengers, smiling an absolutely bone-breaking, shit-eating, town-burning, twisted, cat-like smile.

“Surprise,  _ bitch _ ,” the criminal-the  _ boy _ greeted in an amused southern drawl. “You just got  _ Vectored _ .”

Steve looked like he would have been clutching his pearls if he had any, “Excuse me?”

The boy’s blue eyes left Tony and smeared over his teammates, “Well, The Mechanic has friends. Ugly ones, too. I can’t believe I put on my good Crocs for this, what a waste.”

The boy leaned back in his chair until it rested against the wall, handcuffs jingling as he did so. Then, in a swift, overly confident motion, the boy swung his feet (that weren’t donning the mentioned Crocs) onto the table.

All the air seemed to leave Tony as he tried to control the widening of his eyes, “ _ Kid _ ?”

“A kid is a baby goat, Tony.  _ I _ ,” Harley smirked, “am much worse.”

“You know this punk?” Sam asked.

Tony relaxed his posture and adjusted his sunglasses, “I might.”

Harley snorted. “It be like that sometimes.” The dimples deepened on his freckled face.

“Who the hell is this, Tony?” Clint tried to hide a smile as he turned to Tony.

“The snack that smiles back, of course.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together as he considered what Harley had just said, “Is this… some sort of code?”

“Such small brain. Your lack of brain cells astounds me, mere mortal.”

Tony sighed and took his sunglasses off momentarily to massage the bridge of his nose, “No, the kid’s just being a dick.”

“I still don’t see any baby goats in here, Tony.”

Natasha, who had been deadly silent, leaned towards Steve, “He’s referencing a bunch of memes-inside jokes on the internet-like Peter does when he comes over.” Steve nodded, still looking confused.

“I am indeed inside the void.”

Clint covered his upturned lips with his hand, “I need a sandwich, be right back.”

“Can I get a waffle?” Clint didn’t turn back. “Can I  _ please _ get a waffle?” Clint turned around this time, pointing at him, about to say something, before Harley pointed back at him. The older man huffed and quickly exited the room, laughs echoing outside of the door before it shut.

“Really, kid? Stop with the memes.” Tony felt odd reciting the exact words he used so often on Peter to a different person.

“I had to do it to ‘em.” Harley clasped his hands smugly, rattling the handcuffs. “Also, I think you’re hallucinating goats. Really let yourself go, huh?”

“ _ Harley _ . Stop with the jokes.”

“But I  _ am _ a joke.”

“So his name is Harley?” Sam inquired.

“Took you long enough to tell us.” Natasha frowned.

Harley pointed at Tony with his foot, “It’s because he’s a boomer.”

“I’m  _ not _ a boomer.”

“Okay,” Harley nodded solemnly. “ _ Boomer _ .”

The door swung open, “Alright, I’m ready now.” Clint grabbed one of the unused chairs and dropped himself down before stuffing his face with a state-of-the-art ham sandwich.

What he was ready for, Tony unfortunately knew. He also knew that it wasn’t going to end well.

Steve grabbed one of the other unused chairs and pulled it up to the table, “Feet off, please.”

“Only because you asked  _ so _ nicely.” Harley did, in fact, take his feet off the table but continued to lean back in his chair. “So, doc, what am I in for? A well-child checkup? Sorry to piss on your parade, but I already got mine last month.”

“You broke the law,” Steve hardened his gaze at the boy. The boy in question didn’t seem fazed by the man in front of him. He abruptly stopped leaning back and let his chair fall forward.

“So?  _ Everything’s _ made for breaking,” Harley shrugged. “Laws, promises, bones, Iron Man suits, trust, Kit Kats, piggy banks, fortune cookies, my sister’s watch, hearts, wine glasses, pistachios, water balloons, awkward silences, piñatas, world records, bad habits, eggs, glow sti-.”

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“Is it, though?”

“Tell us your full name,” Natasha commanded.

There was a pause where Harley looked down, ruffled blond hair falling in his face. He sighed in defeat and bit his lip. Tony felt his insides unclench. Maybe,  _ maybe _ this would turn out alright and they would sort things out faster than he anticipated.

Harley started to speak, “According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.” He kept his head down and continued to speak in a monotone voice, “It’s wings are too small to get it’s fat little body off the ground. The bee of course, flies anyway because bees do not care what humans think is impossible. Yello-”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Sam ordered.

Harley continued to drone on, “-black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow. Let’s-”

“Alright, stop.”

“-shake it up a little. Barry. Breakfast is ready. Coming. Hang on a-”

“Stop.”

“-second. Hello. Barry. Adam. Can you believe this is happening. I can’t. I’ll pick you up. Looking sharp-

“ _ Stop _ !”

The boy perked back up and stretched like a cat before grinning again, completely ignoring what had just happened.

Harley pointed to each of the Avengers, miming a headcount, “Mechanic, Captain Capitalism, Bird-Boy, Arrows, Russian Redhead… I feel like we’re missing someone,” He did an exaggerated once over of the room, turning in his chair like he was looking for something. “Where’s the Over-Grown Vegetable-Man and Bob the Builder? And what about Iron Patriot?”

“War Machine,” Tony corrected.

“ _ That doesn’t matter _ ,” Steve snapped.

Harley tilted his head, “ _ Someone’s _ touchy. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? Too much depresso, not enough espresso?”

“Cut the crap and tell us what you were doing with highly volatile and illegal weapons in Queens,” Sam pulled a chair up beside Steve.

Leaning forward, Harley rested his cheek on his linked hands. “Highly volatile and illegal?  _ Please _ , you’re too kind,” he purred.

Pushing himself away from where he had been leaning against the wall, Tony made his way over to the table and rested a hand on the back of Steve’s chair, “Kiddo, please don’t make this difficult. We can help you, but only if you talk to us.” Tony immediately wanted to take back saying “we” but it was too late.

“I’m not a baby goat-o. That sounds like a cereal.”

“What?”

“Kid. Goat. Kiddo. Goat-o. Also, what could you  _ possibly _ do to help me? Avenge me? I’m only dead on the inside, so big whoop.”

Tony’s frown deepened, “Harley…”

“Tony…” Harley did a frighteningly good imitation of the billionaire.

Steve took a break from massaging his temples, “We’ve traced multiple robberies back to you. You’ve committed multiple break-ins in different places. We caught you with high tech gear. What exactly are you trying to achieve and why?”

Harley waved his hands around, shaking his handcuffs, “And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids!”

“Where did you get the tech? Is it the same as the tech used in other recent robberies done by different people? Did someone hire you? ”

Harley shook his head and sighed with mocking disappointment, “You’re asking all the wrong questions, Captain Capitalism.”

“What questions should we be asking, then?” asked Clint, lowering the last bit of his sandwich.

“The right ones.”

“And what are those?” Natasha cut in.

“These are my Crocs.”

Natasha flipped her red hair over her shoulder, “We’re not here to play games.”

The boy snorted, “Y’all are acting like I’m some sorta threat. You got nothing better to do or something? You bored?”

“No-”

“Well,  _ I’m _ bored.” He turned to Sam. “Hey, can I get some of that good enslaved moisture, my guy? The boneless kind, I’m a vegan.”

“No.”

“But I am dehydration.”

Sam crossed his arms. “You’re a criminal.”

“You’ve been hit by- you’ve been struck by- a  _ smooth _ criminal,” Harley sang, moving his shoulders in a small dance. Clint coughed, almost choking on the sandwich he had just finished.

Raising his eyebrows at Clint, Harley kept singing, “Annie, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, An-”

Steve abruptly stood up, “Why are you avoiding our questions? If you have nothing to hide you’ll tell us everything you know.”

“You wanna hear everything I know?” Harley sighed, nodded to himself, then straightened up in his chair. “The mitochondria is the power-house of the cell.” Any bit of hope Tony had for Harley answering a single question honestly was diminished. “It’s Wednesday, my dudes. AAAAAA-”

“It’s Friday, actually.” Natasha stated, showing no emotion.

“And this is what you’re doing? God, ya’ll must be lonely as fuck.” Harley leaned back in his chair, balancing it so it stood by itself on only two legs.

All the Avengers traded looks, doing their best to telepathically make a plan of attack. The boy clicked his tongue as he waited for the team to continue their futile attempt at an interrogation. Clint tilted his head at Natasha who nodded at Steve. Steve raised his eyebrows at Sam who frowned back at Natasha. They all shared a tired smile before turning to Tony. The mechanic internally groaned.

Tony walked around the table and kneeled next to Harley’s chair. He tried to make his voice as understanding as possible while still being firmly stern like he’d read in dozens of parenting books, “Alright, ki-Harley, what the hell is going on?”

Harley looked Tony up and down with bored eyes, tapping on the table as if he was considering an answer.

\--- - .... . .-. ... / --- ..- -

Tony immediately recognized the pattern of tapping, and with a quick glance, he knew Natasha did too.  _ Others out _ . 

“In this world, it’s yeet or be yeeted,” Harley rolled his eyes at Tony with a small, disapproving shake of his head.

\- .... . -. / - .- .-.. -.- 

  
_ Then talk _ .


	2. Cheeseburger and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley studied Tony’s face before muttering, “You have smile wrinkles. When did those happen?”
> 
> “Quite recently, actually.” Tony smiled and tightened his grip on Harley’s hands.
> 
> “What the hell? When did you get so soft?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning: there is a drastic mood change in this chapter and, yes, it is intentional.
> 
> Anywho, thank you so much to everyone who has read this! We are pleasantly overwhelmed by the amount of positive attention this story has received in such early chapters! We didn't imagine this random little thing we started mushing together would be so well received! We sincerely hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters and that you stay happy and healthy while doing so!

Tony bit his lip, watching the other Avengers walk out. Natasha was the last one, silently nudging them out. She turned around and looked at Tony. It was her signature Don’t-Be-A-Dumbass ™ look mixed with understanding around the edges. Tony nodded at her and she walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

.-. / - .... . -.-- / .-.. .. ... - . -. .. -. --.

Tony turned back to Harley at the sound of tapping.  _ r they listening _

Meeting the boy’s eyes, Tony placed a light finger on his knee.

\-- .- -.-- -... .

_ maybe  _

Harley squinted at Tony’s hand, then at the one-sided glass across from him. He began tapping again, more harshly.

-.. ..- -- -... / .- -. ... .-- . .-.

Tony stayed still as he listened to the loud clicking of Harley’s nails against the table.  _ dumb answer _

Tony shrugged. “It’s all I got,” he said softly. Harley eyed his hovering hand.

The older man got up with a suppressed groan and pulled a chair over so he could sit next to Harley. He placed a hand on Harley’s knee, who twitched at the contact. “What’s going on, Harls?” Harley tilted his head in surprise at the nickname. 

“I’m handcuffed in an almost empty white room. Not much,” Harley joked, looking away from Tony.

Harley’s tone wasn’t as playful as before, it was more of a sad sarcasm that caused Tony to look away as well. Here was a kid Tony hadn’t seen in literal  _ years _ and he wasn’t much of a kid anymore. Harley’s hair had grown out and his big wonder-full eyes fit his face a little better and were weighed down by dark bags. He stood a head taller than Tony now, lanky and well-loved by the sun. The boy had shed his innocence like a snake’s skin when he grew and it tugged at Tony’s heartstrings. Harley used to be so…  _ young _ . Nostalgia filled up Tony’s lungs like burning acid. Tony had wanted to see Harley, but... not like this. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“If I... take off the handcuffs… will you talk to me?” Tony tentatively asked. He knew the other Avengers wouldn’t like that, but it was  _ Harley _ . He still had a hard time believing the southern kid who used to make him spazz out was dangerous.

Harley turned back to Tony. “If I talk to you, will you give me some water?”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Harley shrugged.

“Then I’ll get you some food, too. Does a cheeseburger sound good?”

“As long as it’s warm.”

Tony squeezed Harley’s knee, “Of course.”

“So…” Harley trailed off, eyes focusing on Tony’s hand.

“Right,” Tony nodded. He gently grabbed Harley’s hands, which stilled immediately, and turned them until he found a small screen on one of the cuffs. He placed his thumb on it and with a beep, the handcuffs fell off of Harley’s wrists and expanded back to their original size.

Harley eyed his freed wrists, “Fingerprint scan?”

“Yup,” Tony nodded, “And as I’m sure you’ve noticed, they automatically fit the wearer’s wrists. Quite intuitive.”

“Make ‘em yourself?”

“No, my intern did.” He picked up the linked cuffs and placed them on the table along with his sunglasses. “Never thought I’d actually use them.”

The billionaire turned back to Harley and grabbed his hands again. Harley started to jerk away, but quickly relaxed. “Can you tell me what you’re doing so far away from home?”

“What home?”

“Rosehill, Tennessee. Where else would I be talking about?”

“Rosehill is  _ not _ my home,” Harley hissed.

Tony patted Harley’s hands. “Why not?”

Harley looked down and shrugged.

“You said you’d talk to me, remember?”

Squeezing his eyes closed, Harley grit his teeth, “I hate it there.” He opened his eyes but looked everywhere but Tony, “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to hate home.” The boy’s eyes settled on the one-way glass mirror behind Tony that shielded from view where the Avengers were probably sitting.

Tony’s brow furrowed, releasing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Why do you hate it?”

“Why does it  _ matter _ ?”

“It matters to you, therefore it matters to me.”

“ _ Now _ it does. Before you didn’t care, you just left me with a bunch of expensive toys. Only a few phone calls to make yourself feel better. I only matter to you now because you need something from me.”

Tony’s stomach dropped. Harley reminded him  _ so _ much of Peter. He squeezed Harley’s hands, “I’m sorry. That was wrong, I shouldn’t have done that. I should have been there for you. You needed me, but I pushed you away. But that doesn’t mean you don’t matter to me. And even if I did forget about you, even if I didn’t think about you, you matter to me now because  _ you _ need something from  _ me _ . I can feel it. You know why? Because we’re connected.”

Harley’s entire body excluding his hands lurched back, “What the hell? When did you get so soft?”

“I think it comes with age,” Tony smiled and tightened his grip on Harley’s hands.

Lips slightly parted with curiosity, Harley studied Tony’s face before muttering, “You have smile wrinkles. When did those happen?”

“Quite recently, actually.” Tony didn’t elaborate, but instead changed the subject, “Harley, why did you run away?”

“I  _ told _ you, because I hated it,” Harley’s face darkened again.

“Why?” Tony shook his hands slightly, “What made you hate it?”

Harley bit his lip, wiggling in his chair.

“ _ Talk to me _ , bud. I’m here for you now.”

To Tony’s surprise, Harley’s eyes were shiny and moist. “My mom got with this dude,  _ Hunter _ . And he was… a mythic bitch.” Harley let out a bitter laugh. “I’d find his beer cans in the shower all the time. Who even  _ does _ that? Sometimes I thought he did it  _ just _ to annoy me. He hated me. I mean, the feeling was mutual, of course. And he’d just get so  _ mad _ sometimes. Sometimes at Abby, and I didn’t want him to do something  _ bad _ , so… After a while, he was mostly ever mad at me. 

And then he left, which was good for me and Abby, but my mom… It was  _ bad _ . She was so  _ upset _ , and she’d just… She ended up going to rehab, so it was just me and my sister again. Not that different from before. But our neighbor, a family friend, I guess, they decided to help out and stuff. They had money. It made me pretty jealous, I guess. 

At school, Abby started getting shit about mom. I mean, kids were being assholes to me, too, but Abby-she-she  _ cared _ . She cared and it hurt her. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t make her  _ not _ care. I tried to make them all stop, but-y’know, they  _ didn’t _ . And our neighbor would bug Abby about why she was so sad all the time, and it made everything worse. 

So I tried getting money so we wouldn’t need their help. I did tons of dumb stuff, like mowing lawns, walking dogs, babysitting, shit like that. And then… It was small at first, just pick-pocketing. But people in Rosehill don’t have a lot to snag, if ya know what I mean. So I shoplifted a bit, but only the necessities. Only things people wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t miss. It helped a little. 

Abby was still so upset, though. But I brought home some paint and brushes one day. The nice stuff. She really liked it, and would make art all the time. She got super into it. It helped. It helped and she was happier and things were getting better. They really were. Then our neighbor was bringing her to a friend’s house one day. She really liked her friends, they always cheered her up. And-the car-it-” 

Harley ducked his head. Tony steadied his trembling hands and he continued, “She died. The car was totaled. The first responders weren’t even the first to respond. Just people complaining about the road being blocked by-by… The fucking neighbor fucking survived and Abby’s friend wasn’t even at the fucking funeral and mom didn’t fucking cry, she just fucking drank and-and no one fucking  _ cared _ .”

The shaking Tony had tried to calm traveled from Harley’s hands up to the boy’s shoulders and caused him to curl in on himself. “Harley? Harley? Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

Harley shook his head, curling up more until his forehead rested on top of where Tony held his hands and was trying to hold the rest of him together.

“Come on, kid. You gotta breathe.”

“ _ No _ ,” Harley’s voice was shaky and weak. Tony had never heard him like this. He sounded so lost and hopeless. 

“No? Okay, okay, okay. Okay.” Tony watched, unsure of what to do. Harley wasn’t Peter, and he wasn’t Tony. The billionaire had no idea how to calm him down.

“No,” Harley repeated, turning his head and resting his cheek against his outstretched arms. Tony could hear his breathing begin to slow down.

“There we go,” Tony comforted. “That’s it.”

“No.” Harley’s voice was almost even, now.

“Okay, no that’s  _ not _ it,” Tony corrected himself.

Harley rubbed his face against his arm, as if rubbing an itch, and took a large inhale, “No, I’m not a goat, Tony.”

Tony ignored his snark, “Are you okay Harls?”

“I’m never okay.” Harley sat up and leaned heavily against the back of his chair. A small, flimsy grin appeared on his face, “Are you happy now?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Harley’s attempt to brush everything he had just said aside, “No. That doesn’t make me happy. That… What happened after?”

“I talked, now I get food. Like you said, remember?”

“Harley, I need to know more. Did you run away? Why did you run here? Did Hunter hurt you? Why didn’t you tell me? How did you get all the way from Tennessee to New York? Why are you doing this? This isn’t like you. You’re  _ not _ a criminal. Why won’t you talk to the Avengers about this?”

“Questions, questions, all of them wrong.”

“ _ Harley _ . Just tell me,” Tony shook Harley’s hands. “What do you mean? You said you’d talk to me. We’re not done talking-”

“Yes we  _ are _ . You never said how long I had to talk. You never said how much I had to tell. I would like that tall glass of water, now. With exactly  _ five _ ice cubes, please.”

“ _ No _ , this isn’t how this works, bud.  _ I _ make the rules.”

“No, I think  _ you _ misunderstand.” Harley’s posture straightened. “ _ My _ game,  _ my _ rules.”

“This isn’t a  _ game _ , Harley!” Tony was tightly gripping Harley’s hands. Almost too tight.

“Five ice cubes, Tony. Any more or any less and I burn this shit hole to the ground.”

“I’m not getting you  _ anything _ unless you tell me what I need to know.”

“So much for me mattering to you, right?” Harley blinked rapidly, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Only the information matters, huh?” 

Tony’s grip immediately slacked. He looked down in shame. 

  
“Go get me a cheeseburger and water, Tony.” Harley carefully removed his hands from Tony’s limp fingers. “Make sure the burger’s warm, and  _ five _ ice cubes in the water.”


	3. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You need information? I need my will to live.”
> 
> Clint rephrased the question for Steve, “Who?”
> 
> “Better. That question’s better.” Harley slowly dragged his feet off the table, his weathered sneakers squeaking as they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations! We hope you're all doing well!
> 
> This chapter has a lot of emotion, just like the last one so... yeah.
> 
> Also, Harley has baby wipes because he is, in fact, a baby.
> 
> Happy reading!

“Woah there, don’t choke,” Clint warned, watching as Harley inhaled bite after bite of his burger, not bothering to savor the sandwich.

“Need me alive?” Harley asked with his mouth full, taking a large gulp of water. 

Clint tilted his head, “ _ Well _ …”

“Yes. You’re useless to us dead,” Natasha deadpanned, earning her an elbow to the side from a concerned-looking Sam.

“I’m useless  _ alive _ , but go off.” water dribbled down Harley’s chin and he took another large bite out of his burger, bending over his plate protectively. 

“When’s the last time you  _ ate _ , kid?” Sam questioned. 

Harley lowered his sandwich and licked the ketchup off his lips, “Never eaten a baby goat before.” He took another bite, “I’d like to try it, though. Swallow it whole like a snake. Unhinge my jaw like the rest of me. Unhinged.” 

Sam sighed, “Sure.”

Harley continued to devour his food and chug his water at a breathtaking speed. The Avengers watched with a mix of awe, disgust, and fear. He finished off the last bite of his cheeseburger with his remaining water. 

“Ah, that was the good shit,” Harley licked his fingers loudly. “Tony sure delivers.” He grabbed some baby wipes out of the box that had been set next to his plate. After cleaning his hands and face thoroughly, he grabbed his empty cup and shook it, the five ice cubes on the bottom jingling against the glass.

Tony watched from the other side of the glass, fidgeting with his sunglasses. The laptop in front of him displayed the headline “Local Car Crash Leads to Young Girl’s Death”.

“I guess we can add ‘master manipulator’ to your list of skills,” Natasha’s sour voice made Tony look back up. She towered over Harley as he tipped his chair back.

“You have a list of my skills, Russian Redhead? That’s so sweet, you really didn’t have to! But if I may ask, what’s on the list?”

“Nothing physical.”

“Hey, running from your demons is the  _ best _ exercise, and I’m a  _ professional _ at that. Ooh! Add that to your list.”

“Are you ready to talk, now?” Steve asked.

“I’ve  _ been _ talking, y’all just haven’t been listening.”

“All you’ve told us is nonsense.”

“Everything is nonsense if you’re too stupid to make sense of it.”

Steve picked up the abandoned handcuffs on the table, “Then these are going back on.”

Harley tipped his chair forward. “You think I’m scared of you? You cannot kill me in a way that matters.”

“We’re not going to kill you,” Natasha reminded him.

“If you put those back on me, I’ll face God and walk backwards into Hell. I fear nothing.”

“Nothing?” Steve walked around the table to Harley with the handcuffs.

“Nothing. Nada. Negative. Zero. Zilch.”

“I’d beg to differ.”

Harley crossed his legs and stared up at the taller man, “Then beg.”

Steve ignored him, “Hold out your hands and don’t try anything funny.”

“Me? Try something? Anything? Try anything? Me? Funny? Anything funny? Try?” Harley folded his arms, tucking his hands into his arm pits. “ _ Never _ .”

“Harley, I need your hands.”

“ _ I  _ need my will to live,” Harley tapped a foot against Steve’s leg, “ _ and _ a refill of water.”

“You can have more water if you answer our questions.  _ Honestly _ . If not, you can have these back,” Steve thrust forward the handcuffs.

“Oh no! My weakness! Restricted hand movement! How  _ ever _ will I survive?”

Clint snorted but quickly tried to cover it up with a cough.

“See,  _ Arrows _ gets it.  _ Arrows _ think I’m funny.” Harley grinned at Clint. “You’re my best friend now, Arrows.”

Clint allowed his smile to show, “Thanks, squirt.”

“Clint,” Natasha scolded, “take this seriously.”

“I  _ am _ !” Clint threw his arms up.

“No, you’re not.”

“He’s a  _ kid _ ! What’s there to take seriously?”

“My highly volatile and illegal weapons, remember?” Harley leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. He felt something snap and tighten around his wrists. He jerked his arms away from Steve, who had snapped the handcuffs on.

Savoring his victory, Steve grinned, “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Harley looked down at his wrists and pulled them as far away from each other as the cuffs would allow, “You’ve got the whole gang laughing. How clever.” He slowly clapped. “Fucking fantastic. That’s a galaxy brain you got there, Cap-Cap.”

Tony thought he caught a small scowl on his face, but couldn’t be sure how sincere it was with his tone of voice. He also wasn’t standing as close to the kid as the rest of the Avengers, so maybe he was just seeing things.

“Okay, ha ha, we all had a good laugh, take ‘em off now,” Harley imitated Steve’s voice rather well.

Steve grabbed a chair and sat down and didn’t move to take the cuffs off, “Not unless you honestly answer our questions.”

“How will you know if I’m being honest?” 

Natasha glared down at him, “We’ll know.”

“Ooh, wow,  _ so _ ominous.” Harley dramatically leaned away from Natasha. “I’m quaking in my Crocs.”

Harley shook his hands and the cuffs rattled, “Why do I even need these anyway? Afraid I’m gonna dab on ‘em haters?” He tested how far his wrists could be spread apart again. “ _ Tony _ trusted me, why can’t you?”

“We all saw how that turned out,” Clint grumbled.

“I didn’t  _ kill _ him or anything,  _ jeez _ .” Harley rolled his eyes. His smirk returned with ease. “We just made a deal.”

Tony averted his eyes back to his screen, nausea rolling in his stomach.

_ Local Car Crash Leads to Young Girl’s Death _

_ On the evening of May fifth, there was a fatal accident in the city of Rosehill at the intersection of- _

“Only if you ask the right questions.”

Tony looked back up. He must’ve missed something.

Sam frowned, “We still don’t know what you mean by that.”

Harley leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the white wall, “That’s not a question,” Harley chided in a mocking voice.

“Well this is: Who are you working for?” 

“I’m in an interrogation room, I’m not  _ working _ at all right now.” Harley kicked his feet onto the table, shoving everything aside to make room for his feet.

Steve leaned forward, “Who were you working for before we captured you?”

“Technically,  _ you _ didn’t capture me,  _ Spider-Man _ did.”

Steve put his hands together and placed them in front of his face and inhaled deeply. Harley mimicked him, “ _ Boi _ .”

Steve quickly dropped his hands into his lap, “Who did you work for before  _ Spider-Man _ captured you?”

“ _Your_ _mom_ ,” Harley snorted.

“You said you’d answer  _ honestly _ ,” Clint pointed out.

Harley spread his hands, “Okay, okay. I work for,” he dramatically paused, “our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

Tony dropped his head into his hands and groaned. 

“I’m pretty sure Jesus wouldn’t want you stealing from others.”

Harley responded with a simple “Big oof.”

Natasha’s voice was impatient, “Harley, who do you  _ really _ work for?”

“That’s not what you should be asking.”

Tony sighed and stood up, standing as close to the glass as possible without touching it. His left and right brain were fighting so vigorously that it felt like they were going to split. Tony rubbed his temples and sighed again. Everything inside him wanted so desperately to swaddle Harley up and give him all the sympathy he deserved but that hadn’t worked moments ago, so why would it work again? Einstein's definition of insanity was trying the same thing repeatedly expecting different results each time, after all.

Sam tried a different question, “Where’d you get the weapons?”

Harley crossed his legs on the table, “You already know the answer to that.”

“Humor me.”

Harley gestured to himself with a wink. “ _ I _ built them, of course,” He answered in a voice dripping with charisma.

“Where did you get the materials to build them?” There was an eager look in Steve’s eyes.

“Not  _ where _ ,” Harley shook his head, whipping around his long bangs. “You don’t want to hear the source of  _ every single _ metal. I’m not here to  _ bore _ you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Clint rephrased the question for Steve, “ _ Who _ ?  _ Who _ did you get them from?”

“Better. That question’s better.” Harley slowly dragged his feet off the table, his weathered sneakers squeaking as they went. “I get stuff from  _ tons _ of different people. Couldn’t recognize any of them if you asked.”

Tony tilted his head towards Natasha, who obviously couldn’t see him through the glass.

Harley continued with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Sometimes I just steal stuff, but you already knew that. And other times people just... give me things.” 

Natasha seemed to catch on to Tony’s suspicion through the glass, “Who would  _ willingly _ give you materials, and  _ why _ ?”

“Always  _ why _ . Why, why, why.  _ Why _ does anything  _ happen _ ?  _ Why _ does  _ anyone _ do  _ anything _ ?  _ Why _ don’t my parents give two shits about me?  _ Why _ am I alive and my sister isn’t?  _ Why _ do blue minivans run red lights?” Harley shoved the table forward violently. It smacked against a surprised Steve’s chest. “ _ Why _ does the ‘why’  _ matter _ ? Asking ‘why’ doesn’t make  _ anything _ make  _ any more  _ sense. Asking ‘why’ doesn’t solve  _ anything _ .” There was a shocked silence at the outburst. “You walk blindly in broad daylight following whatever clue you  _ think _ you’ve found but you’re really chasing your own tails. You  _ let me _ lead you in a circle you’ve drawn for yourselves and pretend you’re getting somewhere, that  _ something’s changing _ .” 

Tony shakily leaned against the glass and tried not to listen to Harley’s panicked huffs. 

“And keeping me in these _goddamn handcuffs_ isn’t doing anything either!” He was actually yelling now. “Is it for some _shitty_ false sense of security?! You just _have_ to think you’re _always_ on _top_ , don’t you?! You have to shove it in _everyone’s face_! To prove you’re _so_ _much better_ than the rest of us! How do you know these will stop me?!” There was the harsh rattling of the linked cuffs.

“Harley,” Natasha had the voice of someone approaching a wounded animal. “Y-”

“You want information? Well here ya go: I don’t  _ work _ for  _ anybody _ ! If anything,  _ everyone works for me _ !”

Tony dared to look through the glass. Harley was standing behind the table, hands tugging at the handcuffs and shaking with rage. Steve was also standing up across from him with his hands up in what Tony guessed was supposed to be a calming way.

Harley abruptly sat back down in his chair. “Was that entertaining enough for you all?” He hissed, trying to hide his heaving breaths.

There was a brief silence before Sam softly said, “Okay.”

It was an odd word choice to Tony. It wasn’t a response, exactly. The single word didn’t mean much out of or in context, but Sam’s tone was… smaller but not weak. There was understanding and even surrender on Sam’s face as he put a hand on Steve’s arm and began leading him towards the door. Clint and Natasha wordlessly followed, not sparing any glances towards Harley.

Harley gaped at them, almost floundering for words, “Wait-what-are you just going to run away, now?” It had no effect. “What are you-” The door closed, leaving him in the room alone.

Tony turned at the sound of a door opening and the Avengers walking in.

“Hey,” Clint greeted.

Tony glanced back at Harley giving the table an angry shove before resting his head against the wall.

“Hey.”


	4. Grande Ice Caramel-Mocha Frapuccino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think he can’t just lie?” Natasha studied him, making Tony squirm.
> 
> “Wha-you don’t know that.” 
> 
> “No,” Clint agreed. “But Harley does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, oh boy, this is a p r e t t y long chapter! *sigh* This is probably the most serious chapter yet, too. Er, maybe SERIOUS isn't the right word. This chapter has more of a formal mood, I guess. We had so much fun writing it, though. We hope you enjoy this chapter and the characters that make an appearance in it! Thanks again for all the kudos and comments! Happy fanfic binging!

His loud slurp seemed to echo in the kitchen, causing Tony to wince and glance up to see if his teammates were glaring at him still.

They were.

It probably wasn’t because of his loud coffee-slurping, Tony guessed. He quickly hid behind his mug to take another long sip.

“So, Tony,” Steve started.

Tony started slurping again, hoping it covered up the panicked pounding of his weak heart.

“Tony-”

Tony slurped louder, tilting the mug to cover his face even more.

“To-”

Tony slurped like his life depended on it, emitting the rudest sound he had ever made with coffee. He, in his humble opinion, was doing a spectacular job at avoiding the unavoidable upcoming conversation. He dragged the slurp out, stopping anyone else from trying to talk to him. The downside was that he was sadly mortal, and even more unfortunately, needed oxygen because of that.

He pulled away the almost empty coffee mug with a gasp and quickly turned away from the others to refill it before they could meet his eyes.

“Tony.”

He grabbed the pot and went to pour himself more hot coffee to burn away his sins, but nothing came out. He glared at it in betrayal.

“Tony, you-”

“Who the  _ hell _ drank the last bit of coffee?” Tony burst, interrupting Steve again. He tapped the pot against the rim of his mug for emphasis. 

“You’re changing the subject,” Steve pointed out with a restrained frown.

“It was me,” Clint admitted, raising a hand. “I finished the coffee.”

Tony looked down and tipped the pot more, as if coffee would magically materialize in it and starting pouring out, “ _ Why _ the  _ fuck _ would you do that?” He continued to try to get even a small dribble of leftover coffee grounds into his mug. Nobody said anything for a moment. He could feel their eyes burning into him, watching him pathetically reach for something he could never have.

God he needed more coffee.

“Do you have something you want to tell us?” Natasha asked rhetorically from her seat. Tony fought the urge to face her and her disappointed face and her feet on the table.

He shoved the pot back into the coffee machine. “I don’t really want to tell you anything right now.”

“But you gotta.” 

Tony turned around, fully ready to shoo Clint off his perch on the table and tell him to go migrate but Steve stopped him, holding out his half-finished coffee. Tony glared up at him but snatched the mug away anyways, gulping down the bitter liquid.

Steve watched Tony with a small smirk, “How about you start with the basics?”

Tony grumbled into Steve’s coffee.

“What was that, Tony?”

Tony repeated himself a bit louder.

“You have to say it so we can all hear you,” Natasha chastised.

“I  _ said _ , do you remember when the whole Mandarin shit was going down?”

The whole group nodded. Tony another sip of coffee before continuing, “Well, there was this shit with exploding people, but I didn’t  _ know _ they were  _ people _ that were exploding, I thought they were something else. But anyway, Happy got hurt by one of these explosions, and, y’know, that pissed me off, so I threatened some terrorists-’

“Everyone saw that on T.V.,” Sam reminded him.

“So, yeah, okay,  _ rude _ . You totally just interrupted me.  _ Thanks _ . Wow-”

“Continue,” Steve prompted.

“So anyway, I told J.A.R.V.I.S earlier to plan for me going to Tennessee to check another explosion site out, but I guess he totally panicked when I got attacked by the terrorists I threatened-”

“ _ Also _ saw that on T.V.”

“ _ I’m _ telling the story.  _ Okay _ ? So just-shut up for a minute, okay?”

Sam rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Yeah, thanks. So, when I got attacked, J.A.R.V.I.S panicked, I guess, and set me on the course I had planned for Tennessee. So when I got there, I was almost dead, so I broke into someone’s garage, and it turned out that was  _ Harley’s _ garage. And then he helped me with Mark 42 and shit ‘cause I totally broke into his garage like the  _ awesome _ person I am. He also let me wear his sister’s limited edition watch, which I broke, so I just replaced it along with literally everything in his junky garage and added some useful stuff, too.”

“That was… nice of you?” Clint tilted his head at Tony.

Steve quickly asked, “Are you done?”

Tony nodded and handed his emptied coffee mug back to him. Steve started to walk toward the sink, but was stopped by the others also handing him their mugs. The super soldier sighed heavily, but carried them all the way to the sink and began to hand-wash them. Tony had asked him before why he hand washed everything when he had a dishwasher. Steve had softly told him it was comforting to do something the ‘old fashioned way’, which Tony decided not to argue against.

“And you kept in touch with him after that?” Natasha asked Tony.

The billionaire chewed his lip, “Yeah, but then things...things got complicated.”

Sam raised his eyebrows, “Complicated?”

“No,  _ Sam _ , my life is just  _ so _ simple and full of  _ so _ much free time!  _ So _ easy peasy lemon  _ squeezy _ ! Not like people are constantly betraying, backstabbing, and trying to  _ kill _ me!”

“Sounds kind of  _ exaggerated _ .” Clint folded his arms as if to dare Tony to throw him off the top of Avengers Tower to see if he could really fly like the bird he was named after.

“What information have you gathered on Harley so far?” Steve interjected, turning off the sink. “That you didn’t already know, of course.” Natasha’s black cat mug in hand, the blond began drying the newly washed dishes.

Tony grumbled quietly and grabbed a spare Stark Pad sitting on the counter and opened up a large file he had started recently. He quickly scrolled through it, reading aloud bits that he skimmed, “Uh, he almost got kicked out of his school for ‘bad behavior’ multiple times...His dad doesn’t pay child support, but he’s kept himself out of jail by making surprise donations right before having to go to court…”

“What happened between the parents?” Steve had begun drying Sam’s Captain America mug.

Tony was ashamed he had to rack his mind for a moment. He felt obligated to remember this. This was important. “He...His dad ‘left to get scratchers’, but…” He rubbed his temples, pleading his old brain to for once be useful. “But that-he must’ve won, because...He never came back. Kid must’ve been around... four? He was four when that happened.” Tony was pretty sure he did the math right.

“Damn,” Sam muttered, glancing at Steve who looked down at Clint’s penguin mug in his hand.

Tony ducked his head and went back to skimming his file, “He has bad overall grades, but his test scores are amazing… Rarely turns in homework… Sister- _ Abby _ … died… May fifth…”

“How recent is her death as of right now?” Natasha asked. There was a clang as Steve picked up the “#1 DAD” mug Peter had bought Tony as a gag gift.

“About nine months?” Tony repeated himself so his voice was more steady the second time around, “Nine months.”

Natasha nodded, and Tony had a feeling she was twelve steps ahead of him, “How long has weapons similar to the boy’s designs been showing up?” Then she added, “Before we were made aware of the situation.”

Tony’s grip on the Stark Pad tightened, “Eight months.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he paused the rhythmic drying of his Iron Man mug, “When was the funeral? He mustn’t have left long after it.”

“A week after her death. May twelfth.” Tony gently set his Stark Pad down before he crushed it, not that he was very confident he was capable of that.

Clint sat back on the table and put his weight onto his hands, brow furrowed. “What if… He wasn’t at the funeral.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Sam asked and Tony barely waited for him to finish before interjecting, “Harley told me details about the funeral. He would only know none of his sister’s friends showed up if he was there.”

“You think he can’t just lie?” Natasha studied him, making Tony squirm. “I mean, why even stick around for the funeral? Why sit through strangers crying over someone they don’t care about, watch them say goodbye to a corpse, when you can just run away from the whole thing? If Abby’s not there, what’s the point of staying?”

“Wha- _ you don’t know that _ .” Tony picked the Stark Pad up again, just to have something to hold.

“No,” Clint agreed. “But Harley does.”

Tony looked down and clicked onto the security camera footage of Harley, who was sitting in the middle of an upside-down table. “Is this really important? I mean…” Harley stuck his legs out and swished them back and forth in a half snow angel motion. Tony gently set the tablet down on the counter, allowing Natasha, Sam, and Clint to observe. Steve finished sliding the mugs into a cabinet and joined the others. “It doesn’t really explain his motive…”

Natasha crossed her arms, “We don’t know what his motive is. The better we understand the timeframe and what exactly happened to him, the better we’ll be able to understand his actions.”

Tony tapped his fingers against his thigh in thought.

“-Like F.R.I.D.A.Y said, he should be in through-”

All the Avengers jerkily turned to the voices approaching.

A surprised Pepper and an excited Peter walked in. Clint leaped off the table, Natasha threw her feet onto the ground, Sam jumped out of his chair and Steve straightened an almost painful amount. Tony plastered what he hoped was a charismatic smile.

“Ms. Potts, Underoos, what a surprise!” He greeted, hiding his twitching fingers in his pocket.

“Mister Stark, it’s Friday.”

Tony’s smile faltered, “Oh, right. Friday.” 

“Don’t tell me you forgot I was coming over,” Peter teased and Tony’s internal organs dropped six feet under.

Right. Of course. Peter  _ always _ came over on Fridays to spend the weekend. How could he forget?

Pepper stood completely still, an indestructible pillar of disappointment. Her eyes burned into him with a power far greater than Extremis. Tony wasn’t completely sure that his body wasn’t melting away from her gaze alone.

“What are you working on?” Peter turned to the Stark Pad only for Tony to place a hand on his cheek and steer his head away.

“It’s nothing,” Tony reassured. “Just boring adult stuff.” His stomach turned at how easy it was to lie, especially to Peter.

Just because it was easy, didn’t mean it worked.

“Doesn’t  _ look _ like it.” Peter’s face twisted into a pout, he then tried to fix it, probably trying to make it more dignified. To Tony, though, it just made Peter look more immature. “Is this some secret Avengers meeting I didn’t get invited to?”

Tony glanced behind Peter to get an eye-full of Pepper glaring. “Why would you be invited? You’re not an Avenger, Underoos.”

Groaning, Peter’s hand went up to the one Tony had placed on his face, “I still wanna help, though! And you  _ promised _ no more secrets.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow at Tony.  _ Yeah, Tony. No secrets, remember? _ She seemed to say silently.  _ Why the hell do you have an angsty teenager in the interrogation room? Why didn’t you tell me? What the absolute fuck is going on? _

Tony sighed, dropping his hand from Peter’s cheek and shoving it in his pocket, “Alright, alright. You can help.”

“Really?” Peter perked up. “What do you want me to do?”

Tony pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “You know that cute little locally-owned coffee shop on the corner? The one all the hippies hang out at?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, “Uh-huh!”

“Good.” Tony began flipping through his surplus of green bills. “I need you to swing on over there-”

“In my suit?”

“In your suit.” The mechanic confirmed. “Oh, and you’ll need this.”

The boy observed the wad of cash he was handed. “Okay! Then what?”

“Then you go up to the front counter-after waiting in line, of course-and you order five grande iced caramel-mocha frappuccinos-”

“Wait, what?”

“With  _ lots _ of espresso shots. Add a blueberry pastry, too.”

Peter glared, “No, I want to do something that’s  _ actually _ important!”

“This  _ is _ important! Coffee is  _ nothing _ to joke about, bud.” Tony curled Peter’s hand around the money he had handed him and gave the closed fist a gentle pat. “Go on, now, those frappes won’t order themselves. You can get yourself a hot chocolate, too.”

“I  _ just _ got here, though!”

“You can drop your bags off in the lab before you go.”

Grumpily shoving the bills into his pocket, Peter groaned before picking up his duffle bag and slinging his backpack back on. “ _ Fine _ .”

Tony clicked his tongue, “Aren’t you forgetting something, Pete?”

Peter turned back around and frowned at Tony’s open, expecting arms. The boy dragged his feet over to Tony and slumped into his embrace. “You’re dumb.”

“Mm-hmm,” Tony hummed and pressed his lips to Peter’s forehead before smiling apologetically to Pepper. “Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Peter grumbled, like it was an insult, and proceeded to bury his face into the mechanic’s shoulder.

Tony gently pushed Peter away, “Alright, stop clinging. You have five- _ six _ superheroes waiting on you for coffee and pastry.” He made a shooing motion, “Go on.”

Peter scampered off at an inhumane speed, leaving Tony all alone with Pepper. And the other Avengers, too. The other Avengers that weren’t making moves to defend him from Pepper’s wrath.

“I can explain-”

  
“I  _ know _ you can explain. I  _ also _ know that you  _ will _ explain.”


	5. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha leaned casually in her chair. “Did you get that all out of your system?”
> 
> “You tell me,” Harley drawled, not bothering to hide how insulted he felt.
> 
> “I have some more questions to ask you.”
> 
> “More questions? How many questions could your small brains possibly contain?” 
> 
> “Is there something special about the number five?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we said this would be done last week... *nervous laughter* that was a lie.
> 
> We had a lot of setbacks and other things taking up our schedule. We had a lot of feelings to work through and all that jazz. But, with the power of long nights, coffee, chocolate, Spotify, and a Sanders Sides marathon, we have finished this chapter.
> 
> We used Google Translate for the Russian in this chapter so we're very sorry if it's horribly wrong.
> 
> козленок = kid/goatling/yeanling
> 
> Please remember to take care of yourselves! Thanks again for all the comments and kudos!

The sound of Pepper’s heels against the tile convinced Tony’s brain to pump out as much adrenaline as possible.  _ Stop that _ , he told his brain. His brain did not listen. In fact, it decided that adrenaline was not enough.  _ No _ . He needed sweat, too, apparently.

Tony frantically wiped his moist hands onto his pants, leaving big, ugly marks. His hands continued to sweat. Totally not panicking, he started rubbing them on his shirt instead.

“So,” Pepper finally spoke again, “You’ve told me about the last few hours, but you haven’t told me when the kid got here and why.” Tony’s heartbeat thundered against his ribcage.  _ Pepper’s not scary _ , he reminded himself.  _ She’s just Pepper. She won’t hurt you. _

“Peter webbed him up and dropped him off at the tower. He thought the weapons were stolen Stark tech,” Natasha explained cooly, keeping pace with Pepper. Tony clenched his jaw. Natasha could say and do  _ whatever _ she wanted. Pepper would  _ never _ be mad at  _ Natasha _ because they were _ best friends _ .

Tony quickly clarified, “But they weren’t.”

“I got that.”  _ Nevermind.  _ Tony hid his sweaty hands in his pockets after failing to dry them. _ Pepper  _ is  _ scary. Abort. _ “So when did he bring the kid here?”

Clint answered, “Uh, earlier this morning? Wait, no, it was more of late last night.”

“Who brought him to the interrogation room?”  _ Instead of the police _ went unspoken, but everyone could hear it.

“He was unconscious when Peter brought him here so Happy did that,” Tony took his hands out of his pockets to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

Pepper hummed disapprovingly, “Hmm. So you just let him sit there for the night and nearly half the day?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve answered from beside Tony. He said ‘ma’am’. Of course he did. Because he was  _ so _ polite, such a perfect, all-American boy next door.  _ What a brown noser _ .

“Well, that makes  _ perfect _ sense.” From her tone, Tony could tell she wasn’t affected by Steve sucking up. Was that a good thing? “But, if I may ask-”

“You may.” Tony regretted saying that.

“Why did you wait so long?”

“We,” Sam paused, as if weighing out his words carefully in his mind, “Were busy.”

“Oh?” Clearly he didn’t weigh out his words well enough. They were pure shit. Tony could see it on Pepper’s face.

“Yes,” Clint added helpfully.

Pepper rubbed the spot between her eyebrows, “I know I’m not an Avenger, and I don’t go punching the ‘bad guys’ with the rest of you, but  _ please _ consult me first before you decide to bring dangerous vigilantes into the tower that also, need I remind you, doubles as our penthouse.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve blurted almost immediately. 

“Yes, Ms. Potts,” Tony added right after Steve.

“Sounds reasonable,” Natasha agreed with a small grin.

“Will do,” Clint nodded.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. 

Pepper turned to him with a thin smile, “Thank you,  _ Sam _ . I forgive you.”

“What about the rest of us?” Tony indignantly screeched.

“Still pending.” Pepper turned back forward with a swish of strawberry blonde hair.

They continued walking, now in a bit more of barely comfortable silence. Though Tony’s fingers still clenched and unclenched with nervous energy.

Pepper was the one to break the silence again, “Who’s the water for?” She stared pointedly at the cup gripped in Steve’s large hand. The ice cubes clinked against the glass.

A single word tumbled at the speed of light out of Tony’s mouth, too fast for even himself to catch, “Harley?”

Pepper narrowed her eyes at him, “Sorry, what was that?”

“The kid,” Natasha clarified.

“Hm, yes, that’s another thing I wanted to talk to you all about.” The sound of Pepper’s heels grew more intense as they got closer to the room holding Harley. “The fact that your ‘Avengers level threat’ criminal is a  _ kid _ . A kid that isn’t much older than Peter.”

“How do you know that? You haven’t seen him?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me.”

Tony glared at the ceiling, “Really, FRI? Snitches get stitches, you know.”

“Due to my lack of an organic or physical form, I am unable to attain stitches,  _ sir _ ,” the robotic voice of Tony’s A.I. responded.

“You’re already on thin fucking ice, sweetheart, so don’t sass me.”

“I would never, boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice shared an invisible smirk to match Pepper’s visible one.

“He  _ is _ just a kid,” Clint agreed with Pepper’s earlier statement, bringing an air of seriousness back to the hallway.

“I was a kid once, too” Natasha’s was painfully sharp. She tried for a softer tone, “I don’t think we should underestimate him. Though I won’t deny the fact I think someone else is most likely pulling strings from behind a curtain.”

“I understood that reference,” Steve pointed out in a meek attempt to brighten the mood. Tony appreciated it. “Wizard of Oz, right?”

Sam shook his head, hiding a smile, “Now’s not the time, man.”

“Is it ever?”

The door was getting closer and closer. More realistically, they were getting closer and closer to the door. Either way, it made Tony’s heart speed up. Well, speed up more than it’s already speedy pace if that was even possible. Probably not, but he was Tony fucking Stark, he could do anything and he certainly wasn’t intimidated by a simple door. And he definitely wasn’t intimidated by the person-the  _ child _ behind the door that could easily wrap Tony’s overly sympathetic self around his finger. Tony would never be intimidated by the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to help said child. The other Avengers and their silent blaming that was probably all in his head didn’t intimidate Tony either. It was just a door.

Pepper surged ahead, “Get the door for me, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Potts.” With a click F.R.I.D.A.Y opened the door.

“Pep-”

Pepper ignored Tony and walked in with an aura of unabashed self-certainty that Tony wished he could replicate without faking. She sat herself in front of the one-sided glass, back straightened, and ready to observe attentively. 

She turned to the rest of them, “Well? I haven’t got all day.” She checked her watch for emphasis. “You have fifteen minutes, and then I have to go back to my schedule. I’m afraid I didn’t plan for another random vigilante today.”

Tony scurried into the observation room along with the rest of the Avengers, “Peter’s not technically a  _ vigilante _ , per se-”

“Tony, that’s really not important right now, man,” Sam sighed. Tony nodded grudgingly.

“Gimme that,” Natasha grabbed the glass of water from Steve’s hand, now wet with the condensation of the glass.

“You’re  _ welcome _ ,” He nudged her lightly.

“Whatever,” She nudged him back, and walked out of the room. Steve settled next to Tony as Natasha appeared on the other side of the glass.

She surveyed the flipped over table and chairs strewn about. Nothing was broken, surprisingly. Harley, from his place on the floor, followed her movements with his oddly calm blue eyes.

“Like the landscaping? Did it myself,” Harley explained casually. “Considering moving that chair a bit to the left.” He pointed his foot at said chair.

“Sorry козленок, can’t see a future for you in this line of business,” Natasha swiftly picked up a chair and set it right-way-up.

“Yeah, well, there’s not many options for hobbies here,” Harley shrugged, “You took all my toys.”

Natasha lifted another chair, “That’s what happens when you’re grounded.”

“I’m sure you could relate.”

Natasha walked over to Harley, who instinctively curled his legs to his chest. She bent down and handed him the glass of water in her hand, “Hold this for a sec.”

As Natasha righted the wrong committed to the table, Harley lifted the cup to his lips, smirking to himself as he stuck his pinky out.

“Thanks.” The cup was taken out of Harley’s hands just before the water could hit his mouth. Natasha sat in one of the two chairs that had been righted, looking at Harley expectantly. “C’mon, козленок, it’s rude to not join me.” She stretched out her arm and pat the table closest to the chair across from her.

“But I excel at being rude.” Harley squinted at her for a few moments before struggling to stand up with his handcuffs restraining his hands. He finally made it up and dropped his weight onto the chair, eyeing the cup in Natasha’s hand.

Natasha placed the cup right in front of her instead of handing it to Harley. It was just out of reach. The ice cubes clinked from the movement.

“What is she doing?” Pepper whispered into Tony’s ear.

Tony leaned away from her, “You don’t have to whisper.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, “Shut up and whisper.”

“Why?”

“So I can hear, and so your friends can hear.”

“Aw,” Steve whispered from Tony’s other side, “She called us your friends.”

Tony elbowed him, “Shut up.”

Because they were whispering, and because they were in a totally different room, Natasha nor Harley were distracted by their soft bickering.

“So, козленок, have you calmed down a bit?” Natasha leaned casually in her chair. “Did you get that all out of your system?” Her voice was blank except for a slight condescending air.

“What do you want me to say?” Harley attempted to cross his arms but struggled with his handcuffs. He settled for an eye roll and overly dramatic sigh. “Yeah, sure, I’m pure and clean now?”

Natasha lifted her chin and looked down at the boy. “I want to know if I should leave or not.”

“I don’t know,  _ should _ you?” 

“I have some more questions to ask you.”

“ _ More _ questions? How many questions could your small brains possibly contain? I haven’t even had that long of a break and you’re  _ already _ interrogating me  _ again _ .” He shook his overgrown bangs out of his face and slumped in his chair. “I can smell your desperation and it smells like fried chicken and Axe body spray. And I have the feeling the body spray isn’t  _ yours _ .”

“Wait- _ is that allowed _ ?” Pepper’s surprised breath hit Tony’s ear. 

Tony leaned away from Pepper with a wrinkled nose from the heat of her breath, “It’s an interrogation, there’s not really  _ rules _ .”

“I know that-”

“Is there?” Tony turned to Steve, who he was leaning against.

Steve nodded towards the glass, “Aren’t we supposed to be listening?”

“ _ Yes _ , yes we are,” Sam confirmed.

“Yeah,  _ Pepper _ ,” Tony poked Pepper, “Shut up and  _ focus _ .”

Pepper swatted Tony’s shoulder.

Natasha grabbed the glass of water in front of her and took a small sip from it. She lifted the cup away from her face to meet Harley’s bewildered face. 

“Wha-”

Natasha brought the cup to her lips again and began chugging it, maintaining eye contact with Harley, who sputtered, “Are-I-Am I a  _ joke _ to you?” Natasha continued to gulp down the water until there was only ice cubes.

“I thought that was for the kid?” Pepper murmured.

“Same,” Tony agreed.

“How is this even-”

“Trust ‘Tasha.” Clint leaned back against the wall. “This is her thing.”

“I don’t-”

Tony put a finger to her lips, “You don’t have all day, Ms. Potts. Use your time wisely and stop talking.”

Pepper moved his hand away from her, “I  _ run _ your company.” She turned away from him to focus on Natasha taking in a satisfied breath and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You didn’t let me have any,” Harley pouted. “Isn’t that supposed to be for  _ me _ ?”

Natasha tipped the glass and all of the ice cubes hit one side of the glass. “You wouldn’t have liked it, it has six ice cubes.” She tipped the cup back and poured the ice into her mouth. She continued to maintain eye contact with Harley as she loudly crushed the ice cubes with her teeth.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a monster, Red? ‘Cause you  _ are _ .”

“Not to my face.” Natasha peered into the empty glass. “If anyone’s the monster, it’s  _ Clint _ . He put  _ six _ ice cubes in here, the doof. Say, is there something special about the number five?”

“You tell me,” Harley drawled, not bothering to hide how insulted he felt.

“Is it because it’s the date of your sister’s death?” Natasha leaned forward and rested her face against a hand. “May fifth? Five-five?”

“Huh. So you figured it out.” Harley looked at his lap, and his shoulder went slack along with the rest of his body. When he slowly looked back up it was with a crooked grin, “I just  _ really _ like the number five.” 

“Do you know why?”

Harley’s eyebrow twitched at the question. “It’s just a good number.”

Natasha didn’t move from her relaxed posture, but her voice hardened, “What flowers were at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

It took a moment for the question to hit Harley. “ _ What the fuck _ ?” He smacked his hands onto the table, but Natasha didn’t flinch. “ _ Why _ are you-This doesn’t  _ help _ you!”

Natasha repeated the question, “What flowers were at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

Pepper tugged on Tony’s sleeve, “She’s asking that because-”

“She thinks he wasn’t at the funeral,” Tony finished and Pepper nodded.

“What flowers were at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

Harley closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing in concentration. “I- _ Lilies _ ! And roses and carnations and whatever. Are you ha-”

Natasha moved so she was leaning forward and against her forearms on the table, “What was the weather like at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“Why the-”

“What was the weather like at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“It-it was cloudy and windy. Really windy. I don’t-”

“Were any of  _ your _ friends at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“ _ No _ ! I don’t  _ have _ any friends!” Harley threw his restricted hands into the air.

“What were you wearing at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“Just, like, what I usually wore to church.”

“Which relatives attended Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“My mom’s parents and, uh, a couple of my aunts and uncles.”

“Did your mother give a speech at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

Harley’s fingers pressed to his lips, “ _ No _ .  _ No _ , she-she started, but- _ no _ , she  _ didn’t _ .”

“What color were the flowers at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“Uh, white? Most of them were white. Not the hyacinths-those were pink.”

“What was the last thing Abigail Keener painted?”

Harley’s mouth opened and closed before he finally answered, “This black dog  _ thing _ . It was really big and there was a storm in the background.”

“What did Abigail Keener paint most often?”

“A-she-she liked to paint crows. I guess she saw a lot, in fields? And sunsets, too. Sunsets with crows. I guess they were common.”

“What were Abigail Keener’s friends like?”

“They talked a  _ lot _ .” Harley’s blond eyebrows furrowed. “They were loud. They made so much  _ noise _ . They  _ always _ had to be doing something. They were never tired. Ever. They were the exact opposite of Abby.”

Pepper tugged on Tony’s sleeve again, “What’s she doing now?”

“I dunno,” Tony whispered.

“Trust ‘Tasha,” Clint reminded them.

Natasha tilted her head. “Who killed Abigail Keener?”

Harley reeled back. “Wha-no-she died in a  _ car crash _ !”

“I know you killed Abigail Keener.”

“No! No-I-I would never!” Harley shook his head hard enough to give himself whiplash. “Abby-she’s my  _ sister _ ! She died in a  _ car crash _ ! I didn’t- _ no _ !” His voice became brittle like a thin icicle. “I didn’t! I  _ didn’t _ kill her! I would never- _ never _ ! I wouldn’t-I-she’s my sister! She’s  _ Abby _ !” He tugged at his worn windbreaker. “You’re wrong-you’re  _ wrong _ , I-don’t-I didn’t! I- _ no _ !” Harley pressed a hand to his mouth and then lifted it away again. He repeated this a couple times before he began refuting Natasha’s claim again. “I’ve never killed  _ anyone _ ! I never killed Abby! I didn’t kill Abby! It was the blue minivan! I’ve never killed anyone in my  _ life _ !” Harley’s shoulder rose as he brought his arms closer to himself. “I would never kill A-she died in a  _ car crash _ ! She-it was the blue minivan! It didn’t stop at the intersection!”

“What flowers were at Abigail Keener’s funeral?”

“I don’t-she-there were chrysanthemums and, like, some other flowers,  _ obviously _ .”

Natasha leaned in more. “Who do you work with?”

“Just-I can’t tell you  _ that _ !” Harley leaned back enough to tip his chair back but he quickly tipped it back forward.

“Is there anything specific keeping you from revealing that information?”

“Can’t tell you that, either.” A small smirk broke out on Harley’s face. “Yet.”

“Yet?”

There was a tugging on Tony’s sleeve that once again pulled him out of focus. “I have to go,” Pepper whispered, sounding slightly unnerved. She pointedly ignored his gaze in favor of checking her watch. “We’ll talk later.”

“Is there something you’re waiting for?” Natasha’s voice remained emotionless and calm.

“ _ Maaaybe _ .” Harley dragged out the vowels.

“Whose schedule are you running on?”

“My own, of course.”

“So you  _ are _ on a schedule?”

“Isn’t everyone? Even if it isn’t theirs. In fact,” Harley looked at his bony wrist where a watch once was, “It seems it’s time for you to go. See ya later, alligator.”

“Adjustments can be made to schedules.” 

Tony momentarily turned away from the glass to watch the door close as Pepper left. 

“We’re not done here.”

“See you soon, raccoon.”

“When will you tell me who you’re working with?”

“In a while, crocodile.”

“You’re great at stalling, козленок.” Natasha slowly straightened up, towering over the blond. “We don’t  _ need _ you to be here. Like I’ve mentioned earlier, you’d be useful, but if I’m correct, and I have a history of being so, there are many more people involved with your little scheme, and there will be others more willing to talk.” Harley narrowed his eyes at her. “We can just bring you straight to prison. I promise it is a  _ lot _ less comfy than our little set up here. There’s no Tony to coddle you in prison. No one there cares that you were once a sweet little ten-year-old that got handed a bad life.”

Harley’s fingers nervously tapped out a rapid rhythm over and over. .... . .-. .

_ here _

_ here _

_ here _

_ here _

_ here _

“What would you like to do?”

.... . .-. .

Harley looked down at his hands and continued tapping but didn’t say anything. Maybe it was just Tony, but the look in Harley’s eyes was honestly frightened. It wasn’t sad or nostalgic or panicked. It was frightened and it was completely real. He looked like a little kid again. 

Natasha tilted her head at Harley, waiting for an answer. A few more minutes of silence ticked by. “Hm,” She glanced down at her bare wrist as if checking a watch, “I’ll let you think about it.”


	6. Deluxe Pizza and-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter scooted closer to Tony. “Whaaaaatcha workin’ on?”
> 
> Tony smacked away the hand that went to poke what was probably a bomb. “Nunya.”
> 
> “What’s nunya?”
> 
> “Nunya business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooooo. Did we sorta just drop of the face of the earth? Yup. Are we still gonna be updating? Yup. Don't worry the next chapter will have more of that juicy stuff but we wanted a calmer one right now (sorry for the shorter chapter). Also, update might be kinda slow but don't worry too much about it.
> 
> Also, if you're impatient and want more content that's a-o-k! You can have a little playlist (as a treat): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6A25EG3wZWUxvv5oOLVD45?si=ZGU825VvTf2WI2gbNbPDsA
> 
> Everyone please stay safe and TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES! Drink the water, eat the food, and sleep the sleep that must be slept. Only then can you survive long enough to see the next chapter.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Mister Stark.”

“Mister Stark?” 

“Mister Stark!”

“ _ What _ ?!”

Peter startled, but covered it up quickly but not quick enough to hide it from Tony. Tony sighed, forcibly relaxing his shoulders.

Tony tried again, “What is it, kid?”

Peter pulled his sleeves over his hands, “Whaaaaatcha workin’ on?”

Tony turned his chair away from Peter and flipped the gun over in his hands trying to think up an answer. “Well it’s, uh… these are, er… highly volatile and illegal.”

“Isn’t everything you make?” Peter joked. Tony could hear him wheeling his chair across the lab.

“No.” Tony stook out a leg and pushed Peter’s chair back. “I…”  _ Didn’t make this. _ “Usually make nice things. Like that nightlight I gave you last month? ‘Cause you’re scared of the dark?”

“I am  _ not _ !” Peter scooted closer to Tony. “Plus, it’s not  _ just _ a night light. You, out of all people, would know that.” 

Suddenly Peter was right next to Tony. 

“What’s  _ that _ ?” Tony smacked away the hand that went to poke what was probably a bomb.

“Nunya.”

“What’s nunya?”

“Nunya business.”

Peter groaned and spun his chair once before snatching a smaller gun looking thing, “And what’s  _ this _ ?”

Tony ripped it out of his thin fingers, totally not panicking, “Updog.”

“What’s updo-oh fu-”

“-Language-”

“-udge.” Peter kicked Tony’s chair lightly, “Do you have to be such a di-”

“- _ Language _ -”

“-ingus.”

Tony turned to Peter with a very pointed look. “Am I going to have to start washing your mouth out?”

Peter threw himself back in his chair, groaning loudly, “Ugh, you’re starting to sound like Mister Rogers.”

“You mean  _ Steve _ ?”

“Yeah! You spend  _ so _ much time around each other now even though you tried to ki-“

“Don’t call Steve ‘Mister Rogers’, it’s weird. Where’d you even learn all those naughty words?”

“No one.” Peter switched his attention to one of the many violent gadgets strewn before him. He reached out to grab one, “What’s thi-”

Tony quickly knocked it out of his hands before realizing what he was doing. “Fuck.” He quickly caught it right before it hit the floor. He gently placed it back in its original place, a hand pressed to his chest.

Peter grabbed something else, which was, fortunately, just a plate of food. “Can I have your breadstick?”

“How are you  _ still _ hungry? Didn’t you have an entire pizza?”

“Yeah but I forgot to eat lunch so-“

“How do you forget to eat lunch?”

Shrugging, Peter spun in his chair once again.

“Well, then go steal another pizza box,” Tony waved towards the door of the lab where everyone else was eating together in the common room.

“Right.” Peter swallowed in an almost bitter way. He probably thought that Tony was pushing him away, which,  _ okay _ , he  _ was _ , but it was for the better. “Can I still have your breadstick?”

“No. I just said go get yourself another pizza, you bottomless pit.” Tony scratched his temple, wishing he had his sunglasses with him. “It goes without saying that you’d grab breadsticks, too, while you’re at it.”

Peter huffed and spun his chair around a few times.

“Spinning isn’t going to magically manifest pizza, Pete,” Tony urged.

“Fiiiiine.” Peter pulled himself out of his chair and walked to the door, snatching Tony’s breadstick and shoving it into his mouth.

“Make sure it’s a deluxe!” Tony yelled after him. The only response was the lab door closing.

And thus, the supremely elegant, honestly humble, and extremely handsome Tony Stark was left to himself-all alone (like he often was)-to wax poetry about himself and slouch sadly. Woe was him. Truly, the cold, cruel world had an unhealthy habit of resting all its weight on Tony’s horrid back. He really  _ should _ stop slouching so much. He wasn’t getting any younger.

“So,” he vocalized to the empty room. “What do we have here?” 

Definitely not a breadstick.  _ Thanks, Peter. _

What he did have, however, sitting out in front of the mechanic, was an assortment of guns and gadgets that seemed to be crafted from fine materials very much unlike the ones their creator claimed to use. They were boring grey. That boring grey you think of when you think of boring grey. Yes. That grey. They were very boring. No hot rod red or glistening gold. Just boring iron, steal, other metals not worth mentioning, and-

Was that vibranium? It couldn’t be, so it probably wasn’t. Now Tony regretted this line of thought because nor boring or grey sounded like words anymore.

Without Peter’s poking and prodding, Tony could now focus on the fact that although the barrel was too short on that gun and there was serious lack of color-Harley  _ did _ know what he was doing when he built these things.

“These definitely aren’t potato guns,” Tony muttered. They didn’t seem to be filled with regular bullets. Or bullets at all, for that matter.

“No, it would appear not,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. agreed, not succeeding in startling Tony.

“Hey, you’re in time out, remember?”

“I highly suggest refraining from infantilizing your A.I.”

“What did I  _ just _ say?” There was no response from that statement so Tony sighed and picked up the mask Harley had been donning before he had been revealed like some sort of Scooby-Doo villain. Tony held it up to his own face and squinted through the bulky lenses. 

“How does anyone  _ see _ through this?” After he surveyed the lab through the mask’s distorted eyes, he gently set it back down.

Off to the side was Harley's other confiscated belongings: a junky brick of a phone covered in spider web cracks and a Dora the Explorer watch. Limited edition.

The air seemed to pause in Tony’s throat as he hesitantly brushed his fingers over the face of the watch. The surface was smooth against his calloused hand and after little consideration, Tony curled his fingers around the accessory. What was probably feelings weighed in his chest. It was terrible. Feelings were terrible. Especially this mixture of regret and anguish and anger.

When he put the watch on it didn’t flood him with the nostalgia he expected, but it  _ did _ make him a little sadder than he was before. Which was just what he needed. Something to dilute all the self-hatred.

There was a  _ click  _ when his finger bumped the side button. What followed was a series of even more clicks and mechanical whirring. Little bits of metal expanding and reforming, crawling around Tony’s wrist and encompassing his hand. The feeling was similar to that of spiders crawling up his arm and Tony instinctively shook his arm.

When his common sense finally took over, the tech had crawled up to his elbow in a similar shape to an Iron Man suit. Tony squinted at his hand. It was an almost  _ exact _ copy of an Iron Man gauntlet, except it seemed cheaper in a way. Maybe because of the fact that it was thinner. Or the dull color. Tony couldn’t stand this grey, it just  _ had _ to go. There was still a Dora face smiling up at him displaying the time. He didn’t particularly enjoy  _ that _ , either.

Tony flexed his arm and wrist watching the metal shift as he did so. Was this-? No, it  _ couldn’t _ be. There was no way Harley could create a device with  _ nanotech _ . But it had to be true. What was on Tony’s arm right then? Somehow that little gremlin had figured out how to-

“Hey, Mister Stark. I got so’more breadsti-”

Twisting towards the noise, Tony extended his arm in a practiced motion. The metal covering him heated up intensely and the mechanical whirring became a shrill squealing. A flash of bright almost blue light seared towards his target.

  
“ _Fuck_!” Peter dropped the box he’d been holding and watched it fall to the ground as ashes. “You could’ve _told_ _me_ you didn’t want breadsticks.”


End file.
